


Flowers For Belle

by Ethereal_Wishes



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Knight Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Peasant Belle (Once Upon a Time)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-18 19:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13688397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereal_Wishes/pseuds/Ethereal_Wishes
Summary: Each time Sir Rumford passes through Avonlea, he always takes time to visit his longtime comrade, Belle - a spinner by trade.  Weary of evading his true feelings for her, he gifts her with a banquet of flowers.  She questions his motives, inquiring about how his wife would feel if she knew her husband was giving another woman flowers.  Surprised to hear he isn't yet married, he convinces her he has an eye on someone in her village and intends to propose, having no idea she's who he speaks of.





	1. Chapter 1

Flowers for Belle: Part One

A/AN: This is going to be a two-part fic. It's a little something my muse conjured up for V-day and Skin Deep Day! Enjoy!

Sir Rumford Gold wasn't alien to the village of Avonlea – a miniscule merchant's town settled by the sea. He resided in the Northern Province of Candor, which contained the kingdom that Queen Snow and King David reigned over. He was King David's royal adviser and held a high station within the realm. He was known as the ogre slayer and light one – a hero which would come to the aid of the lowliest of peasants. He'd witnessed and seen many things within his thirty-eight years of life. Though he held many titles and honors, the one thing which he didn't possess was love. As the King's highest ranking official, it wasn't as if women weren't throwing themselves at his feet. He could have taken a wife many years ago, but he wasn't looking for a cheap imitation. He yearned for love – true love.

His travels had taken him across the realm, and no woman had managed to captivate his heart, except for one. She resided within the merchant village – a small town girl – a rose among thorns – an unrivaled beauty. He was utterly smitten by her. His voyages rarely brought him to Avonlea, but out of some rare stroke of fortune, the King had sent him there on business.

He felt the perspiration dampening his collar as he strolled through the marketplace, his eyes scanning the stalls, searching for his rare pearl. They'd become well acquainted over the last few years, and he'd spent time conversing with her whenever he passed through town. She was a spintress by trade and sold the most alluring threads. His heart leaped within his chest when he spied her chuckling with a customer – an old woman with a hunched back. He stood respectfully behind her, waiting for their transaction to be complete.

"Please don't worry about it, Agatha, you can pay me next time. Take the thread for your grand daughter, I insist!"

"Thank you so much, Ms. French! You're such an angel!" The old woman praised, holding the bolt of fabric securely within her arms.

'That woman is right, she indeed is an angel,' Rumford thought to himself.

"Lord Gold, what a pleasant surprise!" The spintress gasped, startled to see him.

"Ahh yes, the King has sent me here on business, and I thought I'd drop by and see an old friend, perhaps purchase some of her wares and chat a bit, that is if she has time for an old man." Rumford chortled lightly, fingering a bolt of crimson fabric among her display.

She beamed brilliantly, stealing his breath. "It's always a pleasure to see you, Lord-"

"-Rumford, please call me Rumford," he interjected.

"Fine, Rumford, then I insist you call me, Belle. The French surname is turning me into an old maid I'm afraid," she laughed musically, putting a chorus of angels to shame.

"No husband yet?" He couldn't help but pry, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.

"Lord – I mean, Rumford, you know all the men want the younger lasses. There's no one left to marry. I'm nearing thirty-two which constitutes me as an old maid. I'm okay with that since small mindedness runs rampant around these parts. My meager education might scare any probable beau away," she quipped, the light not quite reaching her eyes.

"Well that's a shame, I have something for you." Rumford quickly changed the subject, though he was elated to find out she hadn't wed. Was it cruel of him to be so hopeful? He pulled a banquet of wildflowers from his satchel – all colors and species because there wasn't merely one flower which could express how he felt for Belle.

"There so lovely, Rumford! Where did you manage to collect them all?" she inquired, placing the banquet to her nose and inhaling deeply.

"I procured them along the way, some from florists, but mostly from the wild," he returned.

Her eyes sparkled with something mysterious, sending his heart aflutter. She reached out to grasp his wrist, transfixing her gaze on him. "And what of your wife? Wouldn't she be jealous to know you brought a stranger flowers?"

"You're mistaken in believing I have a wife, Ms. Belle. However that doesn't mean I don't have my eyes on someone." His voice grew throaty and husky as he spoke, sending heat pooling between her legs. Oh how she wanted him...

"And who might she be?" she tested.

"Meet me at the tavern tonight at eight, and you shall witness my proposal to her," he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, and before she could retort he was gone, fading within the crowd, her mind wondering who this mystery woman could be. She and Rumford had become fast friends over the last several years, so it's possible he wanted to introduce her to his new fiancé. Her heart plummeted within her chest as she conjured up an image of what this woman would look like, draped in her silks and finery. She'd appear to be a street rat in this regal woman's presence, and her heart sank as the only man she'd ever cared for dissipated from her grasp in wisps of smoke.

A/AN: Part Two coming shortly!


	2. Chapter 2

Flowers for Belle: Part Two

A/AN: Enjoy part two! 

Belle felt her stomach knot as she proceeded along the dirt lane which led to the Tavern. The sounds of nightlife droned out the usual boisterous crowds emitted from the tavern. It was eerily silent tonight, however she trekked on. The sound of her own footsteps echoed within her ears as she approached the tavern's entrance – still nothing could be heard from the inside. Part of her was skeptical about coming at all, and now, all she could hear were the alarm bells going off in her head. Turning around seemed like the sensible thing to do. She could go the rest of her life without knowing what renowned woman Rumford loved, and yet she couldn't.

"Do the brave thing and bravery will follow," she mumbled the familiar mantra to herself, mustering all of her remaining courage and pushing open the door.

To her surprise, there wasn't a single soul inside. Glancing downward, she noticed a path of rose petals. Her heart plummeted on impulse as she followed the trail, right to the stairway. She glanced up, noting several bee's wax candles lining the steps, illuminating her path, like tiny fairies guiding her way through the darkness.

"The tavern is empty, and you've left me a trail of rose petals and now candles. Just what are you up to, Rum?" She mumbled the nickname she used for him in private – during those lonely nights when she'd slept alone, she'd imagine him lying beside her, holding her as only a lover would. She'd whisper the endearment to the invisible occupant, imagining him trailing his fingers down her body, though they were truly her own, and then she'd...

Belle felt heat rising in her cheeks as she recounted the familiar fantasy. "Get a hold of yourself, Belle, and climb the bloody stairs," she chastised. She pursed her lips, forcing herself to take a step and then another. As she mounted the top of the stairs, she heard a soft fiddler's tune – a melody which caused her heart to flutter. She padded down the hall until she came to room where the music was loudest. She placed her hand on the knob, halting.

Should she truly be here? What if Rumford was entertaining his new fiance? She shouldn't impose, but he'd asked her to come. She would step inside, make her presence known and then leave. She held her breath, forcing herself to push open the door. Her jaw dropped and her eyes grew as big as saucers as she beheld the sight before her.

Lord Gold sat poised in a chair, drawing his bow back and forth along the strings of his fiddle. The music which resounded from it was a gentle caress to her soul. Hundreds of dark blood roses surrounded him. His regal apparel made her breath hitch in her throat. The dark leather he was wearing made his appearance becoming of a king, serenading his court with a heartfelt cadence.

He was so enraptured by his playing that he hadn't noticed her. He gazed up briefly, his mouth drawing into an O-shape as he gazed upon her hungrily. She shuddered from the intensity of his gaze. She'd decided to wear her white Spring dress, leaving her auburn curls unbound. It cascaded down her backside in silken waves, stealing the adviser's breath.

His rich sable depths were dark and unmoving as he sat his fiddle aside, crossing the room in one swift motion. He reached up to touch her delicate face with his calloused hand, spreading his fingers across her warm cheek.

"I wasn't sure if you'd come, yet you did, and I'm so elated." His voice was filled with relief and something reminiscent of longing. Did she dare hope?

"Of course I came, you asked me to," she asserted, her eyes filled with confusion. "Where is she?" Belle scanned the room, searching for the woman she'd imagined.

"Right here," he reverberated, his voice raw and husky as he cupped her face in his hands.

"What ever do you mean?" she inquired, her eyes filled with conflict.

"Maybe this will clear things up," he said, drawing her closer to his lips, and closing the distance between them.

Belle felt herself swooning as she she melted into the kiss. When he pulled away, she gave him a dazzled look. "That was..."

"Astounding, remarkable, More wonderful than I'd ever dreamed it would be." He breathed, leaning in to kiss her again.

"You...You did all of this for me?" Belle queried in disbelief.

"Yes, Belle, the woman I intended to propose to tonight was you. I paid the owners of the establishment well enough, and they rented the place out to me for a few hours. This wasn't my ideal place to propose, but I did the best I could to create a romantic setting. However you deserve more than a few sparse rose petals and homemade candles. I want to give you the taste of the finer things in life, Belle," he told her. "Will you marry me? Become Lady Belle of House of Gold?" He dismounted onto his right knee, securing her left hand in his.

Belle felt tears leaking from her eyes as his declaration washed over her. "Yes, Rumford, this is certainly a dream come true," she hiccuped, clasping her free hand over her mouth in consternation.

"Then we'll wed immediately, once we reach my homeland. My king will surely want to meet the woman which has stolen my heart."

He beamed proudly.

Belle nodded amicably. "Most certainly, now, I'd really like to know why you chose me out of all the women you could have had, that would have been more suited..."

"Stop right there, don't you dare berate yourself, sweetheart. You're a woman of substance and heart, unlike those perfumed peacocks whose company I'm forced to contend with every day. You're the woman I desire, despite your station. I've mulled over this for many months, and I came here with full knowledge that you may have been wed by now, but I wouldn't allow another opportunity to pass me by. It was now or never," he professed.

His confession stunned her. "You mean, you really believe I'm worth it?"

"Aye, of course I do! You're a woman filled with sharp wit and compassion. I've observed you shower kindness on the people in this village each time I've passed through, including myself. You're everything I've wanted and more in a wife," he returned, his brogue thickening with emotion.

Belle blushed prettily, averting her gaze demurely. "I admit that I was quite smitten with you, seeing you the first day you strolled through town, suited in all of that polished armor. It was like I was living a scene from a fairytale, and you were a knight coming to rescue me from my mundane existence."

She was almost certain she'd witnessed a hint of color rise in his cheeks from her confession. "We have an hour left to ourselves, would you care to join me downstairs for a pint?" he asked.

"Only if you'll serenade me with another tune and tell me the name of that lovely piece you were playing earlier," she responded.

"It's called, 'Belle Remise de L'amour'," he replied, picking back up his fiddle.

"You wrote a song about me?" she remarked in disbelief.

"Belle, I've written many pieces about you, and I'll gladly play them all for you until my fingers bleed," he vowed.

"Just one for now." She smiled fondly at him as he began to play. For the first time in ages they finally felt home, and it wasn't in an extravagant castle or a tiny hovel – they'd found home in each other. Two hearts had finally found their other half.

A/AN: I hope you guys enjoyed this, it wasn't meant to be long – just a wee something I had to write. Also, 'Belle Remise de L'amour' is French for, 'beautiful surrender of love'.


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